Sofa
by Minne-My
Summary: Just a lesbian having sex on the sofa with her husband. Cue interruption


_It was strange the way an everyday noise could trigger a memory._

The slamming of a door tickled her brain and took her back to a decade ago, unenthusiastically (on her part) fucking on the sofa with her now ex-husband. Marcus was his usual voluble self, having failed to convince his wife to utter more than a quiet sigh or moan, he'd given up on that a long time ago. The sofa had ended up being the go-to place for a quickie which seemed to be all they could be bothered for. As long as the towel was laid down, they could pretend to the kids that nothing of consequence happened on there. In reality, Bernie's bum moulded the sofa a lot in those days as Marcus thrusted away with his usual volley of grunts, shifting one of her legs to rest on the top of the sofa to give him more access with the hope that she would find her pleasure the way he had within her. She frowned and sighed as she flopped back and tried to let the motion take her to something resembling satisfaction. She leaned a hand down to rub her clit, the other raised above her to grip the armrest as if to anchor herself to the furniture. Marcus was getting faster and faster, thankfully nearing the end of his vigour. Soon he'd gasp and cry out and slowly deflate. Bernie could already feel the after-affect drip out from between her thighs. That was what the towel was for. She closed her eyes and tried to block the light out, tried to match a moan to his grunts and it seemed to be working. He felt her internally starting to twitch which gave him hope that she would get even halfway to orgasm. He knew she could do it by herself but it was much less fun to watch your wife masturbate and enjoy it without you.

Bernie tried to ignore the slight chafing and attempted to relax, her fingers doing the work for her like last time. She wished Marcus would just finger her now and again; slipping two of them in, his rough thumb grazing that tricky little nub and teasing her into sparks. She imagined the situation and to her surprise started to feel a warmth steal over her. She found herself allowing herself to utter a decibel or two louder than she normally did, her hurried exclamations spurring him on, triumphant that she was finding something at last to enjoy. She sounded like a car starting. He wished he'd had more time to listen to it, it was such a rare occurrence. He'd barely had time to offload when the slam of the door had permeated their consciousness. Not quick enough to disengage, they were still moving together when Cam walked into the room and shouted in shock.

Marcus froze in horror, a chill crawling down his spine. Bernie tensed up, slowly mounting pleasure vanishing in a snap and turned her head to see their son averting his eyes, having seen way too much of everything.

'Mum! Dad! Not on the sofa for fuck's sake!'

'Cam, sorry, we didn't realise you'd be back so soon' Marcus started but he was backing out of the room already, disgust etched across his face.

'Can't you just do it in bed like normal parents? Why do you still do it anyway?' he muttered before striding out of the house again.

'I wonder that myself' Bernie muttered as she attempted to extradite herself from the twitching penis, wrapping a hand around to gently tug it out of her. Marcus's anger resurfaced as she turned annoyed eyes on him, watched her manoeuvre those long legs over to sit up, already wiping herself from him, that brief connection lost. He cursed the moment and his bad luck that he had a wife with those legs he rarely got to enjoy. She was a rare thing, a woman who didn't feel the need to hide her body once she'd stripped off. Unconcerned and content with the way she looked. He just wished she could have translated to every man's dream and had a sex drive to match. But she was always out of reach.

At least Cam hadn't walked in on her sprawled and bent over the armrest like last time, she thought. He would have moved out of the house there and then and never spoken to them again. She wouldn't have blamed him. Who wanted to see that?

Once again she had failed to orgasm. And whose fault was that? Both blamed themselves.

That was the last time they'd fucked on the sofa. Or anywhere else. Apart from that time in the bathroom. They weren't sure if that had counted. They'd looked at each other amidst the steam that had billowed from his insanely hot shower, briefly shrouding them in their pretence before he'd cornered her up against the edge of the bath, finally fingering her the way she'd fantasised about. Thank goodness their children were out for she'd sounded like a starting engine again, louder than ever. She still couldn't come, no matter how hard he tried, to his credit he really had tried. But she had gotten closer than she'd ever had before and they'd had to be content with that.

They'd bought a new sofa a week later as Cam refused to sit on it ever again, despite the towel. Any other happily married couple in their circle would have laughed about it and made it their in-joke but they were not a happily married couple.

She'd felt so guilty that he'd not had the sex life he had wanted that she gave him enough blowjobs to satisfy him until she next came home. She had diligently done her duty and he'd taken every opportunity she'd volunteered up, having long given up expecting more from her. She seemed to require nothing more from him other than an occasional slip inside with his fingers, a rasp of his thumb at her nipples as she stood by the dressing table. He hadn't braved an experimental swipe with his tongue and she hadn't pressed him for it. He would appreciatively receive her attentions until the time they could carry on no longer, where she needed to stop lying to him and to herself. In a way it had felt like they had divorced a long time ago.

'_Darling, it was next door.'_

_Bernie relaxed and sighed, hoping to get back to it. She was halfway there. She was still imagining that Cam would come in and catch them at it. _

'_You're not still worried that our children will catch us at it?'_

_Serena's tone was lightly mocking, partly affectionate. They knew that it was always a possibility and the metaphorical death from mortification was all too real. Bernie mumbled something that made Serena laugh and press her fingers in deeper; curling up and down, thumb circling and darting over that delicious nub of nerves, making Bernie sink back, toes curling at the sparks shuddering through her, opening her mouth to emit that staccato engine sound Serena enjoyed so much. _

_Serena stroked the long leg that was propped up on the sofa, all the better to access her with. She couldn't wait to try out their latest toy on her. She eyed the harness appreciatively with the ribbed textured implement attached to it and hoped with all her might that their children wouldn't be back from the pub for another hour. Considering it was only 7pm, time seemed to be in their favour. Thankfully. _

_Bernie was ready for another round._


End file.
